More than Enough
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Until you've experienced loss, you will never understand how simple things can be more than enough. (BAON fill; HC fill)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. This fic in particular deals with fertility issues, including mentioning multiple miscarriages and stillbirths. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

 **Author's Note:** I've got nothing except tissues.

 **Competition/Challenge Block:**  
 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 4th  
 **Category:** Short (Round 8) (500-2000 words)  
 **Prompt:** Halo (word)  
 **Representation:** Longbottoms; Potters; Birth  
 **Bonus Challenges:** n/a  
 **Word Count:** 624 (Story Only); n/a (Story & Epigraph)

-= LP =-  
More than Enough  
-= LP =-

Alice screamed as she gave a final push. Then she laughed at the sudden release of pressure that came with the slippery baby escaping her body, and she laughed again as his cry filled the air unprovoked. Twice now, she had supported her best friend in this same endeavor only to have silence follow that scream of effort. To hear her own babe cry without being provoked—it was just a blessing, is all. The euphoria of the moment could not be denied.

It was harder later, when the Naming Seer, an old Celt speaking only in the Gaelic of their shared birthland, spoke of _holiness_ and _saintliness_ , of a warrior-lord meant to protect those he called his own. Her happiness at having a hale son became mixed with worry for the challenges he would surely face with such a name, between the ongoing threat of Voldemort and a certain headmaster who believed in vaguely-worded prophecies given under suspicious circumstances.

At the official Naming, Alice spoke the name given to her by the Seer, because Fate would never be denied Her due regardless of whatever misgivings she had about the burden. To the world Alice announced a more palatable name, something the English magi would never think to fear. What the world thought didn't matter, not in the end, not when Magic already knew _better_.

Still, every night as she kissed her son's face and tucked him into bed, she uttered a prayer to the Mother of her homeland for her son to be protected so that he may someday fulfill the promise of his name. She prayed that the son of her best friend, born just a day after her own, be just as healthy as her Neville. Every night, without fail, a light would briefly shine upon the little boy, just as Alice finished the second prayer. Like the anchoring of a spell, the resulting halo reassured her worries as nothing else would have.

It may have been an illusion.

After so much loss, that was more than enough.

-= LP =-

Lily groaned through the contraction, pushing with a quickly fading strength but growing determination. Twice now, she had carried to term only to be robbed of a child to fill her arms. That was without counting the false start, where she miscarried before reaching the point where the pregnancy was announced. Even with just the two failures known to the general public, the whispers and comments lingered as people viewed her with either pity or contempt. James had looked so pale after the last stillbirth, as if he was contemplating how to go about attempting to forbid her trying again. She had a feeling that this was her last chance at gaining a child without using other methods. The thought gave her the strength for one final push. She huffed a breath of relief as she felt the pressure disappear, signaling that the baby had successfully been born.

She closed her eyes, exhausted from three days of difficult labor. It was over now. The baby was born. Any moment now, he would announce his presence to the world. Any moment now, his cries would break the silence of the room. That silence stretched on for what felt like eternity, surrounding the occupants of the room like an inaudible halo of sorrow.

Then weakly, a whine shattered it. The whine sounded like its maker was only vaguely interested in protesting and more interested in returning to sleep, even if that sleep was the cold stillness of death itself.

It may have been less than she had hoped for while she had been struggling to give birth to him.

But after so much loss, the fact that her son was _alive_ was more than enough.

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-


End file.
